Hank had never known such a loss. He could only imagine what it felt like for the families here, struggling through the losses and shortages of war. “I’m so sorry, Lisette.”

“Didier was generous and kind at first. He seemed like a decent man. He promised that if I married him, he would keep my parents safe at Sauveterre.” She paused, twisting her hands in her lap. “I never loved him, but I believed marrying Didier was a small sacrifice to make in order to save my parents from having to beg. Marrying him seemed . . . I thought it was the right thing to do. I thought . . . Ah, none of that matters now, does it? It’s done. My mother told me that love would come when the babies came. There have been no babies.” She drank more champagne. “Didier blames me. And that is not even the worst thing about him. The worst is that he is a collaborator, a member of the Milice, doing the Nazis’ dirty work. I feel such horror and shame when he terrorizes my friends and neighbors, ransacking their homes, betraying them to the Germans, having them dragged away in front of their families. And there is nothing I can do to stop it.”

“I wish I could put my arms around you and hold you close,” Hank said.

“Then you should do just that.” Without hesitation, she set down the cup and moved into his embrace, fitting herself into the curve of his shoulder. “Does this hurt your ribs?”

“No,” he whispered. “Not at all.”

She framed his face between her hands. “I cannot stop this. I cannot stop what I’m feeling for you, Hank. It is supposed to be a sin, but all I feel is love, every moment since I met you. And that in itself is a miracle, because I never thought I would know what it feels like to truly love a man with all my heart, and to have a man truly love me.”

And with that, she straddled him so that he could feel the sweet warmth of her, and they kissed again, and this time, the kiss was different—deeper, more lingering. It was the kind of kiss that led to an intimacy that touched him like fire. He groaned in the back of his throat and lifted his mouth from hers, and it felt like the hardest thing he’d ever had to do.

“Your leg,” she whispered against his mouth.

“It’s fine. You’re not hurting my leg. Or my ribs, or anything else. But, Lisette—”

“Shh. I want this, Hank. I need this. I need to know that I can feel again, that love is not just an illusion I read about in Toselli’s books.”

“It’s real, Lisette. I love you, and I’m sorry your family’s having such hard times. I wish I could make things better for you. I swear, I’d do anything to help.”

“This is helping,” she said, holding his gaze with hers while she unbuttoned her blouse.